


In the Cold, Stark Light of Morning

by nightflyer42



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Frottage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightflyer42/pseuds/nightflyer42
Summary: “I don’t want us to hurt each other anymore.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of creative writing in roughly five years. As a part of my New Year's resolutions, I am starting a tumblr blog, where I will try to post something every day. Most days it will be something short. The point is to force my brain into writing mode again, because writing has always been the healthiest way for me to deal with shit. This is the inaugural fic. I still an't believe that I am actually doing this and after fiver years of lurking I am back in the saddle. Here we go...

They were standing on the porch, drinking coffee after breakfast when Hannibal spoke.

„You seem pensive. Is something troubling you?”

The deep voice shook Will from his thoughts and he looked up from his steaming cup. Hannibal was watching him intently, his face a mask of impeccable calm, just like the old days in Baltimore, before everything had become… complicated.  Will suddenly felt irritated, missing the moments when the mask gave way, providing a glimpse of what lay underneath. After all, it was the thing underneath that he had fallen for.

“I don’t want us to hurt each other anymore.”

The words slipped from his mouth unbidden, without any conscious participation and he startled a bit, realizing that was exactly what he had been dwelling on. He looked away and into his cup again, uncomfortable with his admission. This was something he would have shared readily with the Hannibal he saw on the cliff and later, the one who had dragged him to shore and tended to his injuries, whose voice has trembled with worry, who had pleaded with him to hang on through the fever. Now, after their recovery, Hannibal was so different and withdrawn. Will had finally unlocked the door which kept his beast at bay, and their survival after the plunge from the cliff had pulverized his last defenses. God had refused them His judgment, and Will had risen as new, baptized in the blood of his enemy and the salty cradle of the ocean. He had thought things would be different between them, forts crumbled and masks discarded. Hannibal’s polite distance felt like sandpaper on his raw new self and Will did not know what to do with it.

Hannibal hummed into his own coffee, swirling the liquid and taking a sip.

“I am not sure this is something we could promise to each other. We are, after all, human. Humans hurt each other all the time; it is in our nature.”

Will chuckled with disbelief and struggled with the impulse to hurl his cup into the wall. He had thought that they surely would be beyond dissembling at this point.

“Not like we do, Hannibal. What we have done to each other is somewhat beyond the ordinary everyday pain that humanity inflicts on itself.”

“True. Then we must be more human than all.”

“I did not imagine you describing yourself as human.”

“But I am, Will. Maybe contrary to my desire and concept of myself, but you have proven it time and time again. I tried hating you for it…”

“You tried _eating_ me for it, for fuck’s sake!” Will exploded with venom. Hannibal looked up, eyes blazing, his lip curled a little to reveal his sharp teeth. There you are! A shiver went down Will’s spine, aware than he was scratching at the person suit Hannibal had wrapped himself in yet again. Hannibal took a step closer, managing to loom over Will with his sheer presence, despite the negligible difference in height.

“As I said, my compassion for you was inconvenient. You were like a persistent itch that I could find no other way to scratch. I wanted you gone from my head.” Hannibal swallowed, as if the words physically hurt him when they passed his throat. “I was frightened, Will, from the lengths I felt I would go to, for you. As it turned out, with good reason. You could argue that as I coaxed out the monster in you, I carelessly allowed you to rouse the human in me. We both paid dearly along the way, but I believe that we have finally met in the middle.”

“In the middle, together,” Will whispered. The words rang too true, raw and honest and he felt the reemergence of the low hum that had permeated his entire being as they had stood on the cliff over the body of their adversary, victorious, and the same magnetic pull towards Hannibal. This time, however, he chose to smother his doubts and fears and let the feeling wash over him and center behind his sternum. It was almost a physical ache, the need to touch, and Will reached out a shaking, carefully cupping Hannibal’s face, watching his expression intently. Hannibal remained motionless, his eyes fluttering shut. Will could not tell what Hannibal was thinking, but he had to get this right. He felt that the gesture in itself was telling enough, as before Hannibal had always been the one who initiated any physical contact between them. Still, he turned the motion into a caress and swiped his thumb softly over the sharp cheekbone, and softly breathed, “ _Hannibal_.”

Will did not know what he expected exactly, but he definitely did not expect Hannibal to _shatter_ under his hand. With a heaving sigh, almost a sob, he opened his eyes and Will felt the desire and anguish in them as a physical blow. Hannibal turned his head into Will’s palm and spoke softly, “You said you didn’t want us to hurt each other anymore. Please, be sure, for nothing else could hurt me as much as this. We have waited for so long and lost so much. Please, be sure, or walk away while I still have the strength to let you go.”

As much as he had wanted it, the sight of Hannibal’s armor cracked open did not fill Will with satisfaction. Instead, a surge of fierce protectiveness made him draw Hannibal closer. He was aware of how ironic it was, his desire to protect a man who could probably kill him in a hundred different ways, who has killed in a hundred different ways. Still, the raw and vulnerable expression on Hannibal’s face intensified the dull ache in his chest and he surrendered to the impulse to lean forward and still Hannibal’s slightly trembling lips with his own. It was barely even a kiss, more a caress of reassurance. He pressed their foreheads together and quietly said, “I’m sure. I am not going anywhere.”  Hannibal’s hands, which had been at his sides, slowly uncurled and came to rest on Will’s waist, gentle, possessive, and Will reveled in the warmth seeping through his shirt. They stood there, just holding each other, and in the shadow of the porch they were indistinguishable, one silhouette of something terrible and beautiful. On the windowsill, the coffee cups slowly grew cold, forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was finished, but these two had more feels. Seriously, had a picture of them standing there all day in the background of my brain. And yes, the rating was updated for a reason, there will be fluffy sexy times, probably tomorrow.The goal is to post every day and I couldn't get to the smut with an excited toddler pulling on my pant leg every ten minutes. Now I remember why I stopped writing...

The house was silent, except the creaking of an occasional floorboard as they settled in the temperature difference between day and night, and the sound of the shower. Will stood quietly in the middle of Hannibal’s bedroom, waiting, thinking.

They had come inside at some point, detaching slowly from their embrace, stiff from the cold. Hannibal had been reluctant to let go, his eyes apprehensive and uncertain. The ache in Will’s chest roared back to life and he longed to erase that expression. Not trusting his voice, he took Hannibal’s hand and silently led him upstairs. Once there, he disappeared into the shower to buy some time, washing himself with clinical detachment, deliberating a course of action. Apprehensive and uncertain himself, he felt that was the window of opportunity to make things right and to prove that he was staying, for real. Will was sure that if he drew back, Hannibal would withdraw again and maybe neither of them would have the courage to arrive at this point again. As Hannibal had said, they had waited too long and lost too much. Will wasn’t losing this, whatever it turned out to be. All bridges were burned and he stood on the other side, victorious. He didn’t want to stand alone.

 When he stepped out of the shower, Hannibal was waiting outside with the same wary look, towel in hand. Will wanted to reassure him; he squeezed his shoulder lightly and nodded in the direction of the bedroom.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Hannibal released a breath he was apparently holding and nodded himself, his lips twitching in an almost-smile. He disappeared into the bathroom with a soft click of the door and left Will to his thoughts.

Will wasn’t certain what was going to happen when Hannibal walked out of the bathroom. He didn’t know what Hannibal wanted from him, exactly, nor was he sure what he wanted in return. Still, the fragile trust between them, battered and bruised by both of them, needed to be mended. Trusting someone with your body was not a big deal for many people, but it was for Will, and he was sure that Hannibal knew that. So when he heard the shower stop and minutes later the door opened, he took a deep breath and let his towel fall to the floor.

Hannibal’s steps were utterly silent as always. The only indication of his presence was a sharp inhale. Will stood his ground, trembling slightly, until a puff of warm breath on his neck made his whole body jerk. Still, he could not make himself turn around, suddenly scared and a little embarrassed of being so forward. He could feel the heat of Hannibal’s body on his bare back.

“Will, you don’t have to do this.” The words were a quiet rumble in his ear.

Will struggled to untangle his tongue and replied, “Do what?”

“Whatever you are thinking that you need to do. I would never dream of taking from you something you are not willing to give.”

“What makes you think I am not willing?”

“You won’t look at me. And you are shivering.” Will realized that he was, quite badly. A combination of the chilly air in the room and the mix of anticipation and excitement made long shudders shake his entire frame, his teeth almost chattering. He really wanted to turn around, but his feet seemed stuck to the floor.

 “I told you I was sure.”

“Yes, you did. And if you stayed with me, if you allowed me to hold you as we did this morning, it would be enough. You need not do anything more than that. I don’t want a sacrifice, Will, even a willing one. I don’t wish to see you afraid of me.”

That did it, Will forced himself to turn and the sad acceptance in Hannibal’s eyes helped him overcome some of his own discomfort. After all, he had bared to the man a lot more than skin before. He reached out and repeated his earlier caress of Hannibal’s face, smiling a little when the man pushed his cheek into his palm, like a big cat.

“I am not afraid of you, Hannibal. I am afraid because I don’t know what I am doing and I don’t know what this is and what you want, and what I want; I just really, really want to get this right.”

Hannibal searched his eyes, and apparently satisfied with what he saw there, took Will’s wrist and drew his hand away to place a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“The only way to get this wrong would be to leave.” He kept his eyes on Will’s face as he interlaced their fingers. “Sharing your body with me is not a requirement to keep me happy,” he reiterated.

Will dared shuffle closer, until their stomachs brushed and they both gasped. Hannibal still had his towel, the only barrier between them.

“I understand that, Hannibal. What I am trying to ascertain here is, do you want me to?”

Hannibal’s eyes ignited with a blaze and his fingers tightened around Will’s. “ _Yes_!” he hissed. Will swallowed and tugged him softly towards the bed. “Then let me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go (unless there are too many feels). Come say hi on [tumblr](http://captainnightflyer.tumblr.com/), I'm a very lonely sad puppy over there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *facepalm" I promise, there will be some actual orgasms next time. I suck. being back at work sucks. Still, my poor puppies have suffered through all the feels, now they deserve proper fireworks and I refuse to rush The Sex™. I'd rather post 700 measly words of foreplay, so have 700 measly words of foreplay.

Hannibal’s fingers danced across Will’s skin, lingering touches here, broad sweeping strokes there. He hadn’t touched more than his arms and back, yet Will felt like a live wire, current running through him to Hannibal’s fingers and back again, a feedback loop of sensation that left him both excited and a little wobbly in the knees. They had stopped at the foot of the bed, Hannibal circling him and finally _touching_ , as if he couldn’t wait anymore. His hands felt hungry, and the rapturous expression on his face reminded Will of the night on the cliff. Will’s own fingers tingled, wanting to anchor himself to Hannibal, to ground himself in the moment, a moment he hadn’t thought possible for a long time. He kept them still, letting Hannibal have him moment and trusting him not to let him float away.

Eventually the hands wandered lower, brushing against the scar on his stomach. Will gasped, the skin was still sensitive after all this time. Combined with the memory of Hannibal holding him in his arms almost lovingly as the knife sliced into his gut with surgical precision, the touch brought the sensation of phantom pain, together with surprising heat in his groin. Feeling too raw and exposed before to consider his own state of arousal, Will felt his cock twitch and fill. _God, what is wrong with me?_ Hannibal gave no indication that he had noticed, though he must have, staring down at his hand as it traced the faint pink line.

“I wish I could apologize for this, but I have decided that I will not lie to you again, even to spare you.” Hannibal’s voice was rough with emotion.

Will placed his hand on Hannibal’s and held it there, against his quivering skin. The pain of the past was meaningful and he needed to embrace that in order to move on. “I don’t need you to apologize. This was a part of our becoming.”

Hannibal looked up, wonder and hunger twisting together on his face, and he drew Will closer, a puff of warm breath before their mouths met.

It was nothing like the tender kiss from earlier, lips meeting teeth, tongues stroking and coiling together, sucking the breath from each other’s lungs. Will grabbed Hannibal’s shoulders for leverage and leaned in for more, brain filled with white static, only “ _More_!” running on repeat in the background. What had started as a desire to share trust and a new type of intimacy was quickly becoming something else. He could feel the strength of Hannibal’s muscle and sinew and underneath that all he sensed the beast, rippling against the surface. Finally, Hannibal was here, present in all his glory, and Will reveled in it, letting himself be devoured and devouring in turn.

They separated when the need to breathe was overwhelming, panting against each other, foreheads touching. Will knew that Hannibal’s towel must have fallen off, because his stiff cock was not brushing against soft terrycloth but against an answering hardness. Hannibal released him suddenly and pushed him back, Will falling backwards on the bed. His breath hitched when Hannibal climbed over him with the grace of a big jungle cat. Holding himself up above Will’s body, he leaned down and whispered roughly in his ear.

“I am honored that you choose to share yourself with me, Will. I want to take the time to worship you properly, as you deserve. I want to touch and taste every inch of your skin, to feel and count your pulse as you gasp and moan under my attentions. You look so debauched already, flushed and wet for me.”

 Hannibal’s hand swiped across Will’s cock in a swift motion, nothing more than a tease, and he brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply, his tongue darting out to taste the precome glistening on his fingers. Will closed his eyes and whimpered, Hannibal’s words painting vivid pictures in his imagination, his hips stuttering in the empty air. He looked down between them; his own cock was twitching against his stomach while Hannibal’s hung above him, just as hard. The sight was riveting to watch, but his need was too urgent, raw in its immediacy. Will turned his head and sought Hannibal’s lips again, kissing him until both were breathless again. Gasping, he pleaded, “We can do all that next time, we can do everything. Not now.”

“What do you want now, Will?” Hannibal was looking at him, gauging his reaction, probably wondering if he was going too fast.

“Just touch me, something, I don’t care as long as it’s _now_!”

Hannibal smiled, all teeth. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go (I suppose). Come say hi on [tumblr](http://captainnightflyer.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, my lovelies. Even shorter, but I really hadn't considered when exactly I would find the time to write with work and kids, plus it's Basic Chickens week and there is so much lovely fic to read. Still, I have managed four days in a row. Only 361 more to go!

Hannibal slowly lowered his body, skin pressing against skin in small increments, until he was flush against Will, from head to toe. Their cocks were sandwiched together between their bellies and Will rocked his hips slightly, whining low at his throat, because the catch of his foreskin against the soft hairs on Hannibal’s skin was simultaneously too much and not enough. Hannibal groaned and tried to roll over, reaching for something on the nightstand, _“lube”_ Will’s mind supplied helpfully, but Will pulled him back and wrapped his arms around the man’s torso.

“Don’t. Just… stay here.” The small cocoon of mingled breath and skin they had formed was safe and grounding, and he felt he would shake apart if Hannibal moved away, his weight calming Will’s overwhelmed senses and emotions. Hannibal returned to his previous position, leaning slightly on his forearms, and gave Will a kiss, just a hint of lingering tongue, almost sweet in its apparent goal to placate.

“Just like this then.” He rolled his hips with a quiet moan, echoed by Will. Both of them were leaking already, after all teasing touches and words, and the glide between their bellies was easier. Soon they found a rhythm, Will wrapping a leg around Hannibal’s for leverage, and they rutted against each other, the air filled with gasps and grunts and the slick sound their bodies made. Will couldn’t stop staring at Hannibal’s face, that expressive and cruel mouth twisted in pleasure, a red tongue flashing between those wicked teeth. He remembered that mouth tearing into the Dragon’s throat, and his heart stuttered, his body picking up the pace, overdue for release. Teetering on the brink, but unable to go over, Will growled his frustration and forced his hand between them, sliding in the mess of precome and sweat until he managed to grasp both of them and tug desperately.

He wasn’t sure if he was doing it right, but Hannibal made a wounded noise, almost a sob, and started thrusting wildly, completely abandoned. Will could feel the bruises forming where their hipbones collided, and he didn’t care because his lovely, wonderful beast was finally loose and he could let his own out to play, snarling and grabbing what he could get his hands on, tugging hair and clawing his fingers into Hannibal’s broad back, squeezing roughly around their cocks. Hannibal threw his head back, his whole body vibrating as he spilled over Will’s fist and the sensation of that pulsing warmth was the final straw that hurled Will over the edge with a cry, his vision whiting out.

Hannibal was a dead weight on his, breathing raggedly, rubbing his face against Will’s neck. Again Will was reminded of the analogy with a great cat, beautiful and soft killer with sharp teeth and claws. He wriggled his hand from between them and wiped off most of the mess on the sheets, before settling it on Hannibal’s back, petting between his shoulder blades and his nape. Hannibal made a disgruntled noise and lifted his head, the tiny frown mark between his brows almost adorable.

“You still have ejaculate on your hand,” he accused, narrowing his eyes at Will.

Will calmly kept petting him. “Yes. Some of it is yours. Do you want me to stop?”

Hannibal rumbled low in his chest and settled again against Will’s shoulder.

“No, keep going. You could have used you clean hand, though.”

Will chuckled and refrained from responding. Instead, he closed his eyes and kept stroking; Hannibal sighed and almost purred in contentment. Will’s mind was free of the usual anxiety and self doubt. He could see the future, and it was beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments; as I said, this is my first effort in quite a while and I am overwhelmed that I got any reaction at all.


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